“I am Commander Lucy, the leader of this expedition! Reveal yourself, and I promise to cause you no harm. Though, if you attack and are still hungry, Mr. Baker here has offered to sacrifice himself so that we may live.”
“I offered no such thing—”
“The Commander Lucy?” Zoe asked, words echoing around them. “Oh my, I’ve heard of you.”
Lucy blinked. “You have?”
“Yes, indeed. You’re famous.”
“I am? I mean, I am! That’s me! The famous Commander Lucy!”
“What is it you seek from me, Commander Lucy?”
He looked back at the others.
“Treasure,” Phee decided.
“And Arthur,” Chauncey said.
“What if we can only pick one?” Talia asked. She was holding Linus’s hand again.
“We pick Arthur,” Sal said, sounding more sure of himself than Linus had ever heard him.
“Aw, really?” Lucy said, kicking the dirt. “But … but, treasure.”
“Arthur,” Sal insisted, and Theodore chirped his agreement from underneath Sal’s shirt. When Linus had begun to understand those chirps, he didn’t know.
Lucy sighed. “Fine.” He turned back around. “We seek Arthur Parnassus!”
“Is that it?” Zoe asked, voice booming.
“Well, I mean, I wouldn’t say no to treasure—”
“Lucy!” Chauncey hissed.
Lucy groaned. “Just Arthur!”
“Then so be it!”
The tree shrank back down into the ground in a flash.
The pathway was clear.
“Would you like to lead the way, Commander Lucy?” Linus asked.
Lucy shook his head. “You were doing such a good job of it, and you look like you don’t hear that often enough. I don’t want to take that away from you.”
Linus prayed for strength as he led the way, Talia still holding his hand. The other children gathered behind them, with Sal and Theodore bringing up the rear.
They didn’t have to travel far; soon, the path led to a small clearing. And in this clearing sat a house. It was a single level, made of wood and covered with ivy. It looked ancient, grass growing thickly at its base. The door was open. Linus thought of the stories from his youth, of witches luring children inside. But the witches he knew weren’t cannibals.
Well. Mostly.
It struck him, then, just who this house belonged to, and how much of an honor this would be. For an adult sprite, their dwelling was their most important possession. It was their home where all their secrets were kept. Sprites were notorious for their privacy, and he had no doubt that Phee would one day be the same, though he hoped she would remember the time spent at Marsyas in her youth. She wouldn’t have to be so alone.
The fact that Zoe Chapelwhite was inviting them in was not lost on Linus. He wondered if Arthur had been here before. (Linus thought he had.) And why Zoe had allowed Linus on her island to begin with. And who the orphanage house belonged to. All questions he didn’t have the answers to.
Was it his place to ask? He wasn’t sure. It didn’t have any bearing on the children, did it?
“Whoa,” Lucy breathed. “Look at that.”
Flowers were beginning to bloom along the vines amongst the ivy. It looked as if they were growing from the house itself. Bright colors—pink and gold and red and blue like the sky and ocean—raced along vines. It took only moments for the entire house to be covered in them, even stretching up and over the roof.
Phee sighed dreamily. “So pretty.”
Linus couldn’t help agreeing. He’d never seen anything like it. He thought how muted his sunflowers must seem in comparison. He didn’t know how he’d ever thought they were bright.
Going home was going to be quite the shock.
A figure appeared in the doorway.
The children moved closer to Linus.
Zoe stepped into the sunlight. She wore a white dress that contrasted beautifully with her dark skin. The flowers in her hair matched the ones that grew along her house. Her wings were spread wide. She smiled at them. “Explorers! I’m pleased to see you’ve found your way.”
“I knew it!” Lucy crowed, throwing his hands up. “There were no cannibals. It was Zoe the whole time!” He shook his head. “I wasn’t scared, but everyone else was. Big babies.”
The other children, it would seem, disagreed with this vehemently, if their indignant cries were any indication.
“Is Arthur alive?” Chauncey asked. “Nobody ate him or anything?”
“Nobody ate him,” Zoe said. She stepped out of the doorway. “He’s inside, waiting for all of you. Perhaps there is lunch. Maybe even a pie. But you’ll have to find out for yourself.”
Any lingering fear they might have had apparently disappeared immediately with the promise of food, as they all charged through the doorway, even Sal. Theodore squawked, but managed to hold on to the bigger boy.
Linus stayed right where he was, unsure of what he should do next. Zoe had offered an invitation, but it’d been to the children. He didn’t know if that extended to him.
Zoe pushed away from the house. With every step she took, the grass grew under her feet. She stopped in front of him, eyeing him curiously.
“Zoe,” he said with a nod.
She was amused. “Linus. I heard you had quite the adventure.”
“Indeed. A bit out of my comfort zone.”
“I expect that’s how most explorers feel when they step out of the only world they know for the first time.”
“You often say one thing while meaning another, don’t you?”
She grinned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He didn’t believe her at all. “Arthur all right?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Arthur is fine.”
Linus nodded slowly. “Because he’s been here before, I take it.”
“Is there a question you’d like to ask, Linus?”
There were so many. “No. Just … making conversation.”
“You’re not very good at it.”
“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that, if I’m being honest.”
Her expression softened. “No, I don’t believe it is. Yes. He’s been here before.”
“But not the children?”
She shook her head. “No. This is the first time.”
“Why now?”
She stared at him, eyes alight with something he couldn’t quite place. “This island is theirs just as much as it’s mine. It was time.”
He frowned. “Not for my benefit, I hope.”
“No, Linus. Not for your benefit. It would have happened whether you were here or not. Would you like to come inside?”
He tried to cover his surprise, but failed miserably. “This island isn’t mine.”
She hesitated. “No. But I wouldn’t leave you out here by yourself. There might be cannibals, after all.”
“Could be,” he agreed. Then, “Thank you.”
“For?”
He wasn’t quite sure. “Most things, I suspect.”
“That’s all-encompassing.”
“I find it’s best to be that way, lest I forget one thing in particular.”